


Angle of View

by petals42_tumblr (rosepetals42)



Series: Sterek Tumblr Fics [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek is Superman, M/M, Stiles as camera man, Superman AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-29 07:39:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7675798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosepetals42/pseuds/petals42_tumblr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek Hale is Superman.<br/>Stiles is Lois Lane's cameraman.<br/>They get closer than they are supposed to. </p><p>AKA: A Superman!AU in honor of Tyler's recent casting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angle of View

Derek meets Lois Lane long before he decides to start working at the Daily Planet. He meets her first while saving her from a burning building (she tries to get too close while reporting) and then during a hostage situation (according to reports, she had run _into_ the bank to get the best story) and then finally, agreed to a one-on-one interview with her as Superman. Because it turns out the previous two encounters had won her over to his side and she was doing her best to sway the whole city to support him and as she had told him the moment the hostage situation was handled, “Give me the exclusive and I can make sure they love you.”

And “being loved” wasn’t the point of being Superman but he had learned from the mistakes of other Superheroes who had gone before him and there was no denying that having the cooperation of the police and firemen would be useful.

So he’d agreed. They’d met on the roof of the Daily Planet, alone, and she’d done her part in putting out a good story that outlined what he was trying to do (be a good person and keep Metropolis safe) and why the city should trust him.

She is still too curious about his past, about who he was before he showed up at Metropolis, but she is a good writer and a bit fanatical about keeping her sources to herself so Derek decides he likes her.

He likes her enough that his next move is to get hired as a new reporter at the Daily Planet. Because what better way to keep a finger on the pulse of Metropolis than working for its number one newspaper?

(Well, probably being a policeman would be better but he would have a partner there and his disappearances would be noted and, generally, it would be a lot harder to explain away his many, many odd quirks.)

As a reporter, no one thinks it’s odd if he leaves in the middle of the day to “follow a lead.” No one cares at what rate he finishes his projects, as long as he turns it in before his deadline. Most importantly, when chaos strikes, no one notices if he doesn’t come back to the office and instead “works from home.”

Which is vital. Because Derek’s main disguise to keep people from realizing that he is _Superman_ is his beard. Sure, the glasses and hunching help, but the beard is what he thinks really does it. He uses his super speed to shave in thirty seconds before flying out and it grows back fast, but he still needs about 8 hours before it is back at stubble level.

So, reporter at the Daily Planet it is. He can make sure Lois doesn’t get _too_ close to figuring everything out and use their alert system to make sure nothing too big goes down while he’s working and actually use his English Literature degree to a certain extent.

His first day there he gets introduced to everyone - the editors, the other reporters (including Lois Lane which is a bizarre experience and he is ready to flee if she notices him. Luckily she seems too busy to even look at him too carefully), a few of the marketing guys, and… Stiles Stilinski.

“This is Stiles,” Josh says as they head into the breakroom. “Cameraman to Lois Lane. Also does some of the photo editing.”

“Some?” the man says, swinging around and almost spilling his freshly poured coffee. He is wearing a plaid button down that is hanging open to reveal a Batman shirt while his sleeves are messily bunched up to his elbow. His eyes are amber and there are small moles dotting his face and Derek can’t stop staring. “Please, I do all of it.”

“You do not do _all_ of it,” Josh replies, but he is smiling. Stiles grins back at him. Derek feels his cheeks start to flush for no reason.

“Okay, fine,” Stiles allows. “I don’t bother with some of the advertisements in the back. New Guy, what other lies has this man been telling you?”

“Uh, it’s Derek,” Derek says because he doesn’t want the cutest person he’s seen in the office calling him ‘New Guy’ for the foreseeable future. “And I think I got everything–”

“Did he tell you about the trick to get the coffee machine to work?” Stiles interrupts, not unkindly. He seems to be inviting Derek to laugh with him. It’s… weird. Derek lets himself look completely grumpy when he isn’t being Superman. It keeps people from getting too close. “Because, Derek New Guy, I guarantee you are going to need to know that.”

After learning about the coffee machine, Stiles gives a tour of the backroom and where to steal toner and shows Derek to his cubicle in the center of the floor, outside Lois’ office, and draws a map of the surrounding establishments that deliver. Then he starts describing the pros and cons of each one. it’s about here where they lose Josh, who slaps Derek on the shoulder and tells him not to get too overwhelmed. Stiles keeps talking and laughing and waving his hands around and Derek thinks that if he is overwhelmed, it is in the best way.

*^*^*^

Now that Derek knows to look for him, he ends up seeing Stiles a lot. As Superman. Obviously, when he has his longer interviews with Lois Lane, Stiles isn’t around because the rule is always no cameras; but Stiles is always just a few steps behind when Lois throws herself into danger. Or a few steps ahead if that would make for the better angle. It’s not uncommon for Derek to spot him lying on the ground in debris, body contorted in crazy ways as he tries to get the lighting “just so.”

At work (usually still covered in dust and mud), Stiles oscillates between focusing entirely on his computer screen and running around the office distracting people. He forgets to eat breakfast or lunch but then stays late eating dinner and talking and he and Lois can often be found, heads together, going over what pictures should be used for her articles.

At first, Derek sort of avoids him. Because he knows from the constant muttering by Stiles’ desk that no one spends more time looking at pictures of Superman than Stiles. (Usually it goes something like: “seriously, good fucking lord, slow _down_ Superman if you don’t want to be fucking blurry in every picture. Jesus Christ, I am over your face and your body and your STUPID CAPE!! WHY DO YOU EVEN HAVE A CAPE? IT IS ONLY DRAMATIC IF YOU LET ME TELL YOU WHAT TO DO WITH IT!!!”) Derek figures if anyone is going to recognize him, it is Stiles and so he limits himself to just listening (and trying not to laugh) as Stiles’ rants get more and more angry. (“I think the bastard is playing with me now. LOOK HOW QUICKLY HE FLIES AWAY THESE DAYS. LIKE PRETEND TO STRUGGLE WITH THAT BOULDER MY GOD.”)

But then it is decided that he can _maybe_ be trusted to write the captions for some articles (instead of just reading for typos all the time) and to do that he has to talk to Stiles because Stiles generally gets last say in what exact pictures are going in all the articles. So he heads over there and Stiles remembers him and asks him how he is doing and–

It becomes a habit. To swing by Stiles’ desk before he goes for coffee himself. Even on the rare times Stiles doesn’t need a refill, he seems happy to go with Derek and grab water and sometimes Derek can convince him to grab a piece of fruit so he doesn’t starve to death.

“One second, dude,” Stiles tells him as he comes forward. He eyes don’t leave the screen. “Onnne second. Just gotta finish editing this stupid…. Freaking photograph.”

“No problem,” Derek says, relaxing further. “What’s it of?”

“Fluff piece,” Stiles replies. “They’re breaking ground on that Superman statue that’s going in the town square. Fucking _Kyle_ went and took the pictures so you know they are all terrible.”

“Oh!” Derek says. He actually knows what Stiles is talking about. The mayor had told him personally about the city’s plan to raise a statue in his honor. In thanks for defending the city of Metropolis so well. She had wanted him to allow them to take pictures and he had politely declined that (he didn’t actually want the likeness being _too_ accurate for obvious reasons) but it is still a nice gesture. “They’re already starting on that? That’s cool.”

“Yeah, sure,” Stiles says, still mostly distracted. “Real cool. A 12ft _giant_ dude standing in the middle of our town. That’s really what we need.”

Derek frowns. He knows there are people who don’t really like Superman, he just never figured Stiles would be one of them.

Stiles doesn’t just work at the Daily Planet. He is _Lois Lane’s_ cameraman.

And Lois Lane loves Superman.

“You… you don’t like the plans for the new statue?” he asks. He doesn’t _care_ about the new statue, obviously, that’s not why he became Superman but he has to admit it is… nice. To be appreciated. And, c’mon, he did save Metropolis from General Zod six months ago. And then Lex Luthor a few months after that. Just last Tuesday, he handled Brainiac. Again.

Also, the amount of cats he has gotten out of trees is truly astounding.

So, no, he isn’t Superman because he wants the fame or glory (really, he is going to have to make sure that he never stands too close to the statue as Derek Hale) but he doesn’t necessary think anyone should be _against_ it either.

“Not really,” Stiles says, not dragging his eyes away from his computer screen. One of his shoulders comes up and then down. “I mean, yeah, Superman is cool and all - even if I do have to stare at pictures of him for _hours_ and Lois is constantly dragging me into near-death situations in an effort to get closer to him. But, really… “

He squints at his computer and leans forward, growling something and momentarily losing the thread of what he was saying.

“ _There_ you are,” he says. “Stupid little lens flare. Ah, take that!”

Derek has _x-ray_ vision and he still can’t really see what Stiles did to the screen. But it makes Stiles lean back in satisfaction and smirk and–

“Sorry,” he says, finally looking up at Derek. “What were we talking about?”

“The Superman Statue,” Derek prompts. “Why you think he doesn’t deserve one.”

“Well, it’s not that he doesn’t _deserve_ one” Stiles starts. “But, do you know what the statue was going to be before?”

Derek blinks. He hadn’t known there was a statue before.

“No.”

“Yeah, man,” Stiles says, stretching. “There’s been a budget for a ‘Hero’ statue for like six years. They already had the design all drawn up and it wasn’t Superman. It was way better.”

Derek doesn’t say anything, too busy being surprised by this information (because, really he thought the statue was a kind of thank you gift to him. Not something that had been already planned out). Luckily, Stiles is on a roll and so even as he stands (doubtlessly to get more coffee) he continues without Derek having to ask.

“The original design was for the statue to depict _heroes_ , you know?” he says. “Like, policemen, paramedics, and firemen. Regular people. People who know all the risks and still decide to take them anyway. Bit more heroic in my book.”

They make it to the break room and Stiles pauses to wrinkle his nose at the old coffee but pours it anyway before continuing.

“I mean, again, Superman is awesome but he’s not the only one helping in all these disasters. It would have been cool to the put the attention on everyday people, people that kids could actually _be_ one day.”

He shrugs as he dumps sugar in his coffee.

“Oh well. It will still be a badass statue and I’m probably just biased because my dad is a sheriff out in the town I grew up in.”

“No,” Derek says. “No, I think you’re right. That should– someone should say that.”

Stiles laughs. “Dude, no one wants to write _that_ Op-ed. Superman would probably have to come save you from the angry mob. If he even would.”

Derek frowns more and Stiles looks over and laughs again, telling him to stop worrying.

Then, their coffee break is over and Stiles gets called away to go with Lois to check out someone who says they have a friend who has a friend who knows who Superman is and the day drags on.

*^*^*^

That night, Derek pays the mayor a visit. As Superman.

He tells her that under no circumstances does he want the statue to be a depiction of him. He tells her he wants her to go back to the original design. He tells her that he will fly the statue away and destroy it if it’s of him. When she worries openly about the popularity of this decision, he tells her to just tell everyone that it was his explicit wish for the statue.

She tells him she will need at least a week to get this all in order.

He thinks that is probably a good idea. Maybe that way it won’t be too obvious.

Ten days later, the Daily Planet runs an article: “SUPERMAN REQUESTS STATUE TO BE CHANGED BACK TO ORIGINAL DESIGN.”

*^*^*^

One of Derek’s main rules about this whole thing is that he is _not_ supposed to eavesdrop on people. Sure, he often heads to the sky at night and keeps his ears peeled for emergencies but he tries not to focus on any one person for too long and often the sound of sirens has him following the police scanners rather than just scanning the city and picking up odds bits of conversation.

Of course, he’s breaking it now. Well, not breaking it. Bending it. Possibly.

Because there could very well be some sort of life threatening situation in Stiles Stilinski’s building (it is certainly in a bad enough area) but… well, at this point, he doubts it.

That doesn’t stop him though. Because he (as Superman) had done exactly as Stiles wanted. And… well, it’s just good sense. To make sure his gesture was appreciated. No, not appreciated. That’s not why he did it. He just… Well, part of being Superman is making sure he has a positive public image. Stiles is the public. He has to check. Of course. He holds onto the justification and flies closer and focuses his ears and–

 _“Dude, this is getting to be such a problem.”_ Stiles’ voice is forlorn and whiney and a bit muffled and Derek is not going to get close enough to actually _use_ his X-Ray vision but he thinks Stiles probably has his head down and is mumbling into his folded arms. Just like he does before he has consumed at least two cups of coffee in the breakroom.

 _“Dude, I know,_ ” another voice replies. It sounds like a mixture of suffering and patient. It must be Scott. Derek has heard enough about him. _“Believe me, no one knows more than me.”_

 _“It’s just… how does a person actually_ get _that hot?”_ Judging from the sound of it, Stiles’ has popped his head up. _“The dark hair and the eyes and the… the muscles. The muscles, Scott. I mean, I know they are always covered but I know they are there. Lurking. Waiting. Being all firm and hard and–”_

 _“Please,”_ Scott says. _“Stiles, please. My ears.”_

Derek should stop now. He is very familiar with picking up stray conversations about how hot people find him, how the spandex (which he only wears to cut down on wind resistance!) hugs all his muscles just so, how he is a perfect, impossible specimen of a man. He’s heard it all and he knows it is just a stupid crush for most people and it doesn’t really _matter_ but–

But this is Stiles. And Derek sort of has a crush on him and well… look! What person wouldn’t want to hear their crush talking about how hot they are! He’s only human!

(Okay, well, technically he’s not, but _still_.)

 _“You know what the worst part is?”_ Stiles is saying when he refocuses. _“The very worst part?”_

_“I will do your laundry for a week if you don’t tell me.”_

_“The beard,”_ Stiles says. Derek grins a little. _“It’s… it’s perfect. I want it between my thighs. Like I want bearn burn over my whole body. Just… everywhere, Scott. Every place that is possible for a human to get beard burn. Maybe some places that are impossible.”_

_“Stiles, please. Please, stop, I–”_

_“And the_ glasses _, Scott. Would it be practical to keep them on during sex? Maybe not but dammit, I would try.”_

It’s then that Derek finally realizes something. Stiles is talking about his beard. His beard and his _glasses_.

Which are not part of his Superman disguise.

Which means that Stiles is not fantasizing about Superman.

Stiles is fantasizing about _him._

Derek Hale.

Derek Hale, the hunching, quiet, grumbly new rookie reporter who is trusted to do little more than get the coffee every morning and write the captions for the occasional picture.

He drops 15 feet before remembering how to fly. And then because he’s moved he has to re-pinpoint where Stiles is in relation to him and this is _definitely_ crossing boundaries but Stiles likes him.

 _“–won’t work,”_ Stiles is saying. _“He is too perfect. Did you not hear the part about the eyebrows?”_

 _“It can’t hurt to ask though!”_ Scott replies. _“Ask him for coffee! Or drinks!”_

 _“No, no,”_ Stiles says even as Derek tries to _will_ him to agree. _“It would make it too awkward. Plus, I’m pretty sure he has a crush on Lois. He is always hanging around her.”_

_“Aren’t you always around her?”_

_“I am her cameraman, Scott.”_

_“Maybe he is hanging around YOU!”_

This Scott character is clearly a genius.

_“Dude, I wish. But, no, he hangs around her when I’m stuck trying to edit dumb old Superman photos. I don’t think anyone can be that interested in hearing Lois’ rants and theories on Superman without having a little bit of a crush.”_

Derek wants to pull his own hair out. Because yes he certainly can be that interested in Superman theories while not having a crush on Lois Lane. It’s called: “Secretly Being Superman and Needing to Make Sure Your Secret Isn’t Discovered!”

_“That sucks, bro.”_

_“Alas. Come sit and get drunk with me.”_

_“Only if you promise to stop talking about Derek Hale’s forearm muscles.”_

_“They peek out through his rolled up sleeves, Scott! I can’t be expected to just–”_

_“I am putting on a movie. I am putting it on loudly.”_

_“We just don’t talk like we used to.”_

Sirens start blaring and Derek turns and goes to stop a would-be car chase before it really begins but all the while he thinks of Stiles.

Who likes him.

For himself.

*^*^*^

It’s not that people haven’t liked Derek Hale before. He’s read enough about himself as Superman and is smart enough to realize that his “perfect bone structure and godly cheekbones” carry over no matter his disguise. People had crushes on him in high school and at the beginning of college but he’d long since mastered the art of hunching his shoulders and lowering his eyebrows and seeming generally unfriendly to most people. It deters them from getting too close.

He’s good at it. So it’s not just that Stiles has a crush on him, it’s that Stiles has a crush on him even after _interacting_ with him.

He has grunted at Stiles in the morning and talked to him during lunch and Stiles seems to find him funny and even though Stiles spends almost all day staring at pictures of _Superman_ , he has a crush on Derek Hale.

Derek feels giddy with the information. Giddy and young and _happy_ and his parents had always said that when he met the right person he should go for it and he had always assumed that he would _never_ risk telling anyone his identity but maybe with Stiles it would be okay and worth it and–

Of course, right as he thinks he is almost ready to at least ask Stiles out for coffee, to at least see where it would go, he is reminded that he can’t have Stiles.

He can’t have anyone.

It’s just after dinner and everyone at the Planet is sitting around eating Chinese takeout and Stiles has one leg up on his desk, shirt untucked and is gesturing with chopsticks at Lois, who is, for once, out with the others on the floor rather than in her office and she’s laughing and Derek is hovering on the edges of the conversation and trying not to stare at Stiles _too_ obviously.

All their phones go off at once.

Stiles doesn’t even bother looking at it. He just shoves a disgusting amount of food into his mouth (even Derek admits that it is disgusting but what’s _not_ disgusting is the way his throat works as he starts swallowing and– good lord, Hale. Get it together.) and grabs two cameras and stands.

“Some kind of attack,” Lois reports out loud. “Down by 20th St. Maybe aliens.”

“Aliens!” Stiles has his mouth full again, bending over. “ _Aliens_ aliens?”

“Reports are unclear,” Lois replies. “C’mon, let’s go!’

Stiles nods and when he tries to take a last bite, Lois grabs him and the two tumble out.

And then Derek remembers. He’s Superman.

He has to move. It takes him a minute to get to a bathroom and into his suit and 30 seconds to shave and remove his glasses and then the quick spin to the sky gets his hair in its usual weird-curl-in-front formation (that everyone seems to think is styled? Or planned?) and it’s not an alien (seriously, everyone is so quick to call aliens these days) but it is serious.

There’s been some sort of explosion and there are still shots being fired which tells him it wasn’t an accident.

The next twenty minutes pass in a blur. There is screaming and gunshots and two more explosions go off, momentarily deafening him to all else and he thinks he has all the gunmen now, safely disarmed and passed out but he’s not sure and–

The building is falling. He’s still inside and he can fly so he doesn’t realize it at first but it’s is definitely tipping. He does one last scan with his eyes to make sure it’s empty and then flies out.

It’s over.

Except…

Of course. Everyone else is moving away and there is Lois Lane and Stiles Stilinski, still standing too close. Standing close enough that they seem not to even notice that a building is _falling on them_ and it is doing it quickly and Lois Lane has stepped forward while Stiles stands behind her and there are chunks of the _building_ falling and he is moving and all at once he realizes it.

He can’t get to both of them.

Not in time.

The chunk of concrete that is falling on Lois is large enough to kill her and the one coming for Stiles is smaller and its trajectory is going for his legs rather than his head and it’s a split second decision.

He grabs Lois and leaves Stiles.

“Superman!” Lois cries as he all but dumps her on the ground and he has said that she is important, that she is his link to the public and his biggest defender and he has made a point to be polite to her and give her the exclusive but now he puts her down by a firetruck and is gone before she can say anything else.

Stiles is pinned. The chunk of building hit his leg (as Derek thought it would) but it must have been a window frame because he is bleeding in a thousand places and covered in glass and his leg is crushed. Derek knows it before he even uses his x-ray vision.

He hesitates because Stiles has lost blood and if he removes the pressure from his leg he will lose more and humans are fucking _weak_ when they are injured and–

“Out of the way,” a woman grunts at him and he turns, shocked, to see that the paramedics have arrived.

 _Regular people,_ Stiles’ words ring in his ears. _People who know all the risks and still decide to take them anyway. Bit more heroic in my book._

She strides forward and is following by two others and they are feeling for a pulse and speaking words he isn’t following and–

“I- I can lift it,” he offers. “I just didn’t know–”

“Give me a second,” she orders. He’s not entirely certain she has even registered who he is. “Gotta make sure he hasn’t severed anything important. Marty, get ready with a tourniquet. Watch the glass.”

Stiles still hasn’t moved.

“Okay, now,” she orders. “Lift it off him.”

He obeys and the paramedics are ready with gauze but they seem relieved by something and don’t have to use all of it. Derek hopes this means that he didn’t sever an artery. Derek hopes this means that Stiles will be okay.

“Do you want me to fly him to a hospital?” he asks, already stepping forward to do so.

The paramedic spares a second to look at him, one eyebrow raised in judgement.

“Fly this man with a shattered leg, multiple lacerations, and a possible head wound through the open air at inhuman speeds while not strapped onto anything?” she asks. He blushes. “Yeah, no. No, thanks. We got him.”

And they do. The next moment he is on a gurney and in an ambulance and there are calls for him to come help others and so he does that.

*^*^*^

It is late by the time he is done as Superman. It is late and he is exhausted and he is haunted by what happened to Stiles.

By what he decided to let happen to Stiles.

Of course, he can’t even hate it that much because Lois is alive and Stiles is also alive. He is in the hospital and banged up and his leg is being held together by a pin that Derek can see as he looks in from the window and focuses his eyes, but he is alive.

They are both alive. Which means that Derek made the right choice.

He knows that. He knows he will make that choice every time.

He also knows that’s not fair.

He will spend his entire life choosing the citizens of Metropolis and the greater good over any one person. He will spend his life leaving at the sound of sirens and flying through the night sky to be ready and he can never promise anyone with him a single undivided moment of his time. He can’t promise them an uninterrupted day or to be home at a certain time or anything even close to a normal life.

And that’s not fair.

That’s not what anyone wants out of a relationship. It’s not what anyone _deserves_ out of a relationship. And this whole time, he thought the debate was “Can I trust anyone to tell them the truth?” but it isn’t. That’s not the question.

The question is, “Can I be a good partner to someone?”

And that answer is “No.”

So he stays away.

As Superman, he forces himself to only check on Stiles once while he is in the hospital and he stops eavesdropping at his house. As Derek Hale, he hears that Stiles is out for at least a month due to his injuries and he donates $20 dollars to the Get Well Card and he signs it impersonally “Derek Hale” and even though everyone else takes turns bringing over food and well wishes, he doesn’t go visit.

*^*^*^

“– _cannot_ believe you are doing this.” The voice is familiar and loud and Derek jumps only to see that no one else has reacted.

Probably not that loud for anyone else yet then. Just him. Sometimes having super hearing is such a pain.

He doesn’t quite recognize the voice though though it prickles on the edge of his awareness like he should.

“You are going to hurt yourself!” It continues. It sounds fed-up. Fed-up and exhausted.

“WORTH IT!” A man answers and that is–

That is Stiles.

“It is not worth it! You’re leg is broken in three places!”

“ _Was_ broken in three places. Was!”

“It has only been three weeks!” That would make the second voice Scott. Derek should have recognized it. “Still broken!”

“I am going crazy! I need to do something! I need–”

Their voices quiet as they enter the elevator and Derek forces himself not to eavesdrop even though they are coming _here_ right now and that means Stiles will be here and–

“You could work from home!” Scott is saying as the elevator doors open.

“HOME IS A PRISON!” Stiles yells. “A prison I shall be kept in no longer!”

“You are _forgetting your crutch, Stiles, stop_ –”

It has been three weeks since he has seen Stiles and when the man turns the corner, Derek wishes the comparison didn’t make his heart hurt.

But it does. Because the Stiles that turns the corner is thinner and has scars on his face that Derek knows will fade over time but haven’t yet and he is pale and clearly in pain.

He’s moving though. As fast as he can manage and Scott is trailing after him with a crutch and all Stiles’ credentials and Stiles is grinning. Just a little bit. In triumph.

He doesn’t flop into his chair like he used to but he still spins and his smile widens.

“Give me some pictures to edit!” he yells. “I am here to save this newspaper!”

By now there is a mess of people ready to welcome him and all Derek has to do is slide back a few steps and he is lost in the crowd.

And this is stupid. Stupid because he knew Stiles was going to come back to work eventually and Derek would have to see him but he just… He thought he had six weeks. Maybe more. Because he had _seen_ the breaks in Stiles’ leg and Stiles should not be here.

He was clearly so bored at home though. So bored and Derek hadn’t even been to see him. Because he didn’t think he could deal with seeing Stiles alone so soon after everything and yet now here he is. Back at work. Where Derek will have to talk to him.

He falls back to the break room to collect himself. He is going to take a few breaths and stop being such an _idiot_ and–

“Hey, sorry,” Scott’s voice makes him jump.

He turns. Scott’s eyes are tired but he looks happy. Happy and friendly. Derek isn’t sure why he is talking to him.

“You are blocking the coffee machine,” Scott says by way of explanation. “I’m trying to get Stiles all setup before I have to get back to work. He is not _supposed_ to be moving around at all but–” he shrugs and rolls his eyes in a fond way.

“Yeah,” Derek says, clearing his throat when that comes out oddly hoarse. “I mean, that’s a good idea.”

It still takes Scott raising one eyebrow for him to step away from the machine.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. “I, uh, I–”

“Don’t worry about it,” Scott tells him kindly. “I’ve lived with Stiles since he started here. I know this place runs you into the ground.”

“Yeah,” Derek agrees, relaxing despite himself. “Especially when you’re the new guy, so…” He fades out and tries for a smile only to find Scott sort of frowning at him.

Not rudely. Just… suspiciously.

“Wait,” he says and for one while moment, Derek thinks he somehow _knows_. Because he is squinting as if he is putting things together and recognition is coming over his face and oh dear god, he is about to be _discovered_. “You’re Derek Hale!”

Derek is so ready to say, “No, of course not!” that he ends up saying, “No! I mean… yes. Yes, yes I am.”

“Oh!” Scott says, flushing. “Oh, Stiles has told me a lot about you. I mean, your work. Really good for a new reporter.”

“Oh,” Derek says. He knows he is probably blushing. He wishes his beard covered his whole face. Including his eyes. And forehead. Just all of it. “Oh, well… that’s really–”

“Do you not know where our apartment is?” Scott says. “Because almost everyone stopped by when he was holed up and, uh, well I thought you would come over to. He would have loved that.”

The guilt that Derek has been trying to keep at bay for three weeks comes sweeping in.

“Uh,” he starts. Thank god being awkward is part of his character. Or, more accurately, not part of Superman’s. “Uh, well, I–”

“… did you not want to?” Scott says and his whole face is sort of crumpling. While trying not to. “Oh, I’m- I’m sorry, man, I just… “

“No!” Derek says. “No! I did- Stiles is– I did want to. I just… I didn’t know if he… I don’t have your address.”

Derek should not be allowed around people.

“Awesome!” Scott says and it occurs to Derek that Scott has pretty much just asked Derek over _for_ Stiles. “Here, I’ll write it down.”

Scott is not Superman; he does not have super speed or anything of the sort but somehow Derek finds himself with a post-it note with their address before he can so much as blink.

This is a disaster.

*^*^*^

He manages to avoid Stiles the first few days (primarily because Stiles doesn’t quite manage to work full days and when he is there everyone and their mother is constantly asking him for help because it turns out that Stiles really does do a _ridiculous_ amount of the photo editing for this office) but then he runs into Lois in the breakroom and–

“Go take this to Stiles,” she orders him, shoving a cup of coffee in his direction. Her eyes have that slightly unfocused look they get when she is already writing something in her head. “He can’t get up but I…”

She fades out, waving her hands and muttering to himself and, after all this time, he is still the _new_ guy. Even if he weren’t, no one disobeys Lois Lane. And no one wants to see a coffeeless Stiles.

“Hey,” he says, walking up. Stiles is hunched over his computer, absently rubbing at the bit of his leg that isn’t in a cast. He jumps and looks up as Derek moves closer. “I have your coffee.”

“Oh!” Stiles says. “Derek, hi! I mean, thanks!”

God, his eyes are beautiful this close up.

“No problem,” Derek says and then kicks himself because that came out warmer than he usually spoke. It came out sounding a little bit more like Superman. “Lois actually made it. I just got roped into the delivery.”

“Right,” Stiles says and then he is looking down and it occurs to Derek that he just made it sound like he did not _want_ to deliver Stiles his coffee. Which is technically true because he is supposed to be staying _away_ from Stiles until he can get past this ridiculous crush but Stiles looks _sad_.

“Not that I minded,” he tacts on, probably ineffectively. “Er, how are you feeling?”

“Dude, I’m fine,” Stiles says, forced smile back on his face. “Like, don’t even worry about me. Leg is practically healed.”

Derek can literally see that that is a lie (the biggest break is still healing; the smaller two are still weak; he doesn’t think the pin is ever going to come out).

“That’s good,” Derek replies. “I mean… yeah. Good.”

Derek should fly into the sun.

Stiles sort of nods at him and turns away (and honestly, Derek doesn’t blame him. What else could you do with that?). Derek does the same. Turns and winces and–

“Oh, Derek?” Stiles says and Derek whirls back around, trying to make his face look at least a little pleasant. “Hey, uh, Scott told me he sort of invited you over to our place.”

“Yeah,” Derek says. “He did.”

“Well, I just wanted to tell you not to worry about it,” Stiles says. “Like, don’t feel like you have to come over, you know?”

“No, no I do want to come over,” Derek says and he is certainly not lying about that. “I’ve just been really busy. But I will.”

“No rush,” Stiles tells him and it is clear he doesn’t believe that Derek is actually going to show up.

“Is there a day that works for you?” Derek finds himself asking even though he should just stay away. It might hurt Stiles’ feelings a little but it will be better for him in the long run. Better for both of them.

“My dad is coming to town this weekend but next week, pretty much any day works,” Stiles says. “I mean… I can’t really go out much so Scott has been feeding me. Which reminds me - please bring takeout. I’ll pay you back. Promise.”

His eyes get bigger and he is relaxing a little bit which makes Derek relax and he is smiling, he realizes. Dammit, he is smiling at Stiles.

“Next week,” he promises. “I’ll bring Thai food.”

“My favorite!” Stiles croons at him and Derek has so much work to do he might actually have to draw on his Superman speed to get it all done but–

“I know,” he finds himself saying, leaning back against the desk a little. “I’ve seen you eat it before. It’s disgusting.”

“Rude,” Stiles tells him. “Rude and inaccurate. I eat with the grace of a prince.”

“Maybe a _dwarf_ prince.”

“Okay, first of all, how dare you. Second of all, let’s not go around stereotyping how different cultures act based on a few representations of–”

Derek ends up staying for eleven minutes.

Which, in the news world, is a very long time.

*^*^*^

Of course, as the next week comes, it is just as he feared it would be.

Monday, there is a fire that spreads to two buildings and takes three hours to get under control. He wants to leave after everyone is safe but winds up talking to the firemen as the flames die out.

Tuesday, he saves a woman from a group of men and promises to stay until she feels safe again.

Wednesday is spent at a meeting with the army for part of it and then getting a little boy’s cat out of a tree and then there is a robbery. Because of course there is.

Thursday is the same, but he is at least done by 8:30pm. And he can’t go over now but he can at least swing by to check when they usually eat dinner so he knows for tomorrow (because, dammit, he is going to make it over tomorrow!).

So he flies over to Stiles’ and eavesdrops to see if they are still eating dinner and–

 _“I can totally make more tomorrow,”_ Scott is saying. _“I mean, if you liked it and if we are having a guest.”_

 _“Scott, c’mon. No guest,”_ Stiles says. _“He’s not going to come. He hasn’t even mentioned it at work.”_

 _“But you said he said this week sometime!”_ Scott insists. Derek’s stomach twists. _“Tomorrow is the last day!”_

_“Yeah, well. He was just being nice, Scott. I think he’s… well… you know. He’s uncomfortable.”_

_“Know what? Why would he be uncomfortable?”_

_“I think he must’ve found out about my… you know, my crush on him,”_ Stiles says. He sounds like he’s forcing himself to be okay. _“He’s sort of been avoiding me at the office and I doubt I’m that subtle so… yeah.”_

 _“Okay, even if he does know,”_ Scott replies. _“That doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to be your friend!”_

_“Dude, straight guys are weird about other guys having crushes on them.”_

_“I’m straight! I love when people have crushes on me. It’s a compliment, Stiles.”_

_“You are not the average straight dude, Scottie.”_

_“So, he’s just… not gonna come over. Because you have a crush on him?”_

_“Pretty much. Being friendly at work is one thing. I’ve been working there for a long time. I can request that he do the captions for my pictures and stuff. But he’s not gonna come to my_ house _.”_

_“That’s stupid. He sounds like a jerk.”_

_“Not a jerk,”_ Stiles replies. _“Just… not interested. And not okay with me staring at his ass all the time.”_

_“Well, I still think–”_

_“I’m kinda tired, Scott,”_ Stiles says and there is an intake of breath and a thump as he drags his crutch closer. _“I think I’m gonna turn in.”_

Derek stops listening.

He stops listening and he flies home and rips off his Superman uniform and changes into real clothing and then says “Fuck it” and flies back in that. And then he uses his super-strength to open a window on the stairwell of the second floor and marches up the steps to Stiles’ apartment and he remembers to run his fingers through his hair to avoid the curly-q windswept-ness but he doesn’t think about much more than that.

Because Stiles thinks that Derek is _uncomfortable_ with his crush. Stiles thinks that Derek is avoiding him, or worse, _using_ him for a leg up at the Planet and Stiles had sounded sad and tired and _hurt_ and that is unacceptable.

He knocks on the door. Scott answers it. He looks shocked.

“Hi,” Derek says, going for a winning smile. “Sorry I’m late.”

Scott’s eyes widen a little further.

“Derek?” he asks. Derek nods.

“I’m here to see Stiles,” he says. Scott must have really accepted that he wasn’t going to be coming. “Is he in his room?”

“Uh, yeah,” Scott says, stepping back. “Yeah. He is.”

Derek nods and moves. He heads erringly to Stiles’ door and knocks just once before sliding it open.

“Scott, seriously,” Stiles says. He is sitting at a small desk tucked into the corner. “I know you want to make me feel better but–”

“Hey,” Derek says. “Uh, I’m not Scott.”

Stiles turns and then his eyes go comically wide as well and look, it shouldn’t be _that_ surprising that Derek actually showed up.

“D-Derek?” Stiles says. “You… you’re…”

“I’m late,” Derek says. “I’m really sorry. And I forgot to bring takeout. I got held up. At work.”

There. That is believable enough.

“No,” Stiles says, still sounding shaken. “No, you’re _Superman_.”

Derek freezes. Stiles is still frozen. Derek has no idea what is happening. Stiles looks like he doesn’t either.

“What?” Derek finally manages. He has no idea how this happened. How Stiles could have figured it out? How could–?

“How could I not see that?” Stiles says, finally looking away. “I- I have stared at your face for _hours_. Both of them! And all that’s different is a stupid–”

_His beard._

It hits Derek finally. What he forgot in his haste to get over here.

His beard doesn’t grow back for at least 8 hours. So making sure he was in regular clothes and his _hair_ wasn’t still in Superman-formation did exactly nothing in helping keep his secret.

How could he have forgotten?

“This… this is _crazy_ ,” Stiles says. He moves as if to stand and Derek steps forward to stop him. “I can’t believe… You…”

“That’s why I couldn’t come over,” Derek says. “I got… held up.”

“Yeah, held up by being _Superman_ ,” Stiles says. “And, seriously, dude, is this how you tell people? You just show up with no beard? Because, I think there are better ways. Less traumatizing ways. Ways that don’t shave years off a man’s life.”

“I- this isn’t how I meant to-” Derek tries and then stops. Stiles seems to be sliding from shock to excitement but this is still a _huge deal_. Even in his original plan to date Stiles, he never thought he would tell Stiles he is Superman before they are serious. “I mean… I wanted to. But.”

“But?” Stiles prompts.

“I- I was really just here to have dinner,” Derek admits. He knows he is blushing again. And there is no beard to hide it. “But I was rescuing this old lady and then I… I forgot about the beard.”

“You… just forgot?” Stiles says. “About your beard. Which you shave every time you turn into Superman?”

“It only takes like thirty seconds,” Derek offers. “I can… Well, I can move pretty fast.”

“And you just carry a razor around?”

“I keep it with my suit.” It occurs to Derek that this is probably the weirdest line of questioning they could be on right now. Of all the things he thought he would have to explain about being Superman, his shaving habits were not high up there.

Stiles seems to realize the same thing.

“Oh my _god_ ,” he says and he does stand this time. Stands and comes closer. “This is ridiculous. Ridiculous and crazy and– how long does it take to grow back usually? The beard, I mean.”

“Not that long,” Derek says. “It’s stubble again overnight so I usually am good to go to work.”

“But tonight, you forgot.”

“Well,” Derek says and then hesitates. Because he is not sure that admitting to next-level eavesdropping is something he should do quite yet. Or, maybe he should just get it over with. He will have to tell Stiles eventually; it wouldn’t be honorable if he didn’t and, holy shit, _that_ is going to be embarrassing. “I- um- I was really hungry?”

He realizes it’s a stupid answer halfway through saying it and makes it a question.

“You were… really hungry,” Stiles says, grinning a little, and he is recovering quickly. Somehow that doesn’t surprise Derek. If anyone would be the type to find out he is Superman and then tease him thirty seconds later, it would be Stiles. “So hungry you forgot about your beard.”

“Uh, yes,” Derek says. He wishes he had the power of invisibility. “And, well, I promised I would have dinner with you. I didn’t want to break my promise.”

That’s true. True enough that he at least stops fumbling and manages to sound less like a teenager with a crush and a bit more like an adult who saves the world on a bi-weekly basis.

“Well, we have dinner,” Stiles tells him, still smiling. “I mean, Scott cooked and he’s not great but it’s edible. Sort of. I can grab you some. You have a stomach of steel, right? To match the nerves?”

He grabs his crutches and starts moving toward the door and Derek realizes that he’s come this far, that he _is_ supposed to have nerves of steel, that he might as well go all the way so–

“Wait,” he says. “Wait, what I really want is to take you out to dinner.”

Stiles blinks. Derek continues just to be clear: “On a date.”

Stiles freezes, blinks again, and then slowly starts to smile.

“But I can’t,” Derek sighs, looking down towards Stiles’ leg. “Because we really need to talk about what it would mean. To date me because I- I’m busy a lot of the time and your leg is still broken in two places and that is my fault so I’m not sure it would be fair to you and–”

“Oh shut _up_ ,” Stiles says and then he is swinging closer on his crutches and sort of fumbles one of them, almost falling, so Derek reaches out (faster than the speed of light) and catches him.

Derek is the strongest person on planet Earth. He can lift buildings off of people and stop planes from falling from the sky. He can throw cars with one hand and fly while holding up water towers. He has super strength and super reflexes and super speed.

He is Superman.

But when Stiles laughs at him and uses only one hand at the back of his neck to pull Derek down for a kiss, he is powerless to stop it.

Probably because he doesn’t want to.\\]

**Author's Note:**

> Dear god, that summary is bad even for me-- but I'm at a wedding week and only have twenty minutes to get this up. Hope you enjoyed the fic anyway!!


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